Fargon, part 6

Brunhilde bowed slightly and left the battlements. She had not decided where she would go, but she was intelligent, strong and beautiful, and she would collect Fargon's book of spells and a large amount of money before she left. She could cope.

"Leave the spells," The Goddess whispered in her mind.

The Goddess turned to Princess Autumna and said aloud, "Those trousers are elfskin. Give them a decent burial."

Wizardslayer took a mountain tricycle the long way down to where Fargon's body lay. He was about to chop off the remains of the head when he noticed a trickle of blood from the corpse formed the words, "I will be bock."

Fargon would be a strong, dark German beer, or this was a mistrickle. Wizardslayer knew that even before decapitation, dismemberment and burial under a huge stone in a grove of garlic, Fargon would never be back. The mischievous mind which had created the message was not Fargon's.

Up in Castle Covet, Grimwally grinned like the maniac he was.

THE END, not the start of an extensive series of short stories and novels, for the reason described in my poem, Seven Deadly Sins Mnemonic on the 7 Deadly Sins page of my poetry site, reachable via the Links page of this site.